The Cherished One
by OhMyWord
Summary: Finding her once was good, but a second time – that meant something. Now one could either dominate or cherish; she wasn’t made for the in between.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: At the bottom.

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The Cherished One

Prologue

Excerpt from Washington Stalking Laws (2007):

"The feeling of fear must be one that a reasonable person in the same situation would experience under all the circumstances; and the stalker either (i) intends to frighten, intimidate, or harass the person; or (ii) knows or reasonably should know that the person is afraid, intimidated, or harassed even if the stalker did not intend to place the person in fear or intimidate or harass the person.

In this case, "follows" means deliberately maintaining visual or physical proximity to a specific person over a period of time. A finding that the alleged stalker repeatedly and deliberately appears at the person's home, school, place of employment, business, or any other location to maintain visual or physical proximity to the person is sufficient to find that the alleged stalker follows the person."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Devotion: Ardent, often selfless affection and dedication, as to a person or principle. See synonym – love.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_The shower, she went in to take one, and I followed to watch. _

_ She left the door open, stripped – slowly._

Somewhere outside my thin walls, in the hallway perhaps, people were talking. The voices echoed back and forth in my mostly empty apartment; I squeezed my eyes shut, felt for the zipper pull of my jeans, listened to the teeth as I slid it down.

_Her body was flawless, always. She teased me, letting the strap of her bra fall; she wouldn't just unclasp it already. I waited just out of her eye line; she liked it when she knew I was watching, but couldn't actually see me. Her jeans peeled down like second skin, they pooled at her feet and then were carelessly kicked away. _

_ Long legs, she had the most perfectly slender legs I'd ever seen, the color of cream or a sweet icing. I wanted to taste them, work my way up her thighs to that place in the center. But I waited, let her have the control._

I gripped myself the way I thought she would do it, tentative, but with a secret want to go further. I wanted to open her up.

In reality, I only burned.

_She unfastened the clasp of her bra deftly, slipped it forward and off; she thought that because her back was turned I couldn't see her. But she forgot about the mirror. _

Up, my hand moved – her hand. I felt harder still. I thought about her thin fingers, lean arms, long neck; her body was so small. One could either dominate or cherish; she wasn't made for the in between. Down, my hand moved – her hand.

_I was right at the limits of my patience for her game; in the mirror, I saw the corner of her mouth turn up. She played with the waistband of her panties, hooking her thumbs into them on either side. I made my move._

I thought of the way her hair would flow down her bare back, faintly curling, soft and sweet smelling. Her entire body smelled like flowers.

_She let out a small sound of surprise, not because she was, but because she knew I liked it. I replaced her hands on herself with my hands, traced over the soft cotton that was the only thing still covering her. I brought my head down, pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and then another one, closer to her neck. Each kiss followed by the subtle changing of her body. Closer, she came to me, leaning back, stretching her neck, baring herself. _

_ Finally, she grabbed at my hands, pushed downward; I grinned, impatient, sweet one. I let her have her way, helping her to step out of the flimsy cloth._

My hand moved apart from the rest of me, up and down, slow and then more quickly. This oblivion wasn't going to last.

_Her work on my pants was very fast; it was the only thing I wore. She opened the shower curtain, felt the water – just hot enough. She got in and I followed. This wouldn't be gentle._

_ I grabbed her about the waist and lifted, braced her with myself; she inhaled quickly when she felt me pressed so near. "Kiss me," she begged. I obliged, first chaste, but only for that split second. I took her lower lip between mine; her moan pushed her forward and I felt her tongue sweep over mine, lingering. She was wet and my hands were slipping. I wanted to be inside her._

My breath hitched, sharp. My head tilted back and my motions sped; body tensing in all places. And then her face, always. My angel in the darkness. "_Bella_."

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Author's Note: So, I'll tell you now that Edward is not the good guy.

I'm planning on keeping this story pretty short and all in his point of view. Also, if you're looking for fluff, this will definitely not be it.


	2. One: The First Time

One: The First Time

I'll tell you a few things first because you may find yourself wanting a frame of reference. My name is Edward Cullen; I work, it's the bottom of the ladder type job that most twenty something people have and I live in a medium sized city in Washington, alone. But I should state now that none of that matters; only she matters. And that kind of love purges all significance from things deemed separate or distinct.

The first time I ever saw her, it was a Thursday - one of those beautiful but ordinary fall days. I was running; I enjoyed it though I always ended up in the same place. We were in the park and I was on a trail and she was trying to cut a path straight through, but was getting tripped up by her high heeled boots – brown, leather, and to the knees. They were getting stuck in amongst the soil and damp leaves; it had rained the night before. There was the slightest bit of bare skin between the top of her shoes and the bottom of her dress, pale white. Her clothes were some dark color that my eyes skimmed over quickly in my rush to see her face. She had very long hair, mahogany and soft looking.

And her face, it reminded me of the first time I ever saw it snow. That was the only way I could think to describe it at the time – she was my perfect winter morning. Pink cheeked, full lipped, and cream skin stark against the frame of her dark hair. The space between her eyebrows was marred by faint frustration which I smiled at impulsively. She checked the time on her phone – late. It struck me as strange that she would have something like a cell phone, as if by watching her, I was seeing someone not from this place or time. I couldn't help but follow in her gravitational pull.

Her path went north, into downtown; she walked quickly, moving around the edges of the tourist groups. The city was like that in the fall, people visited for long weekends to take pictures of the trees. She stopped outside a law firm, Jenks, Johnston, and Moore and seemed to give herself an internal pep talk. When she was ready, she flicked her hair behind her squared shoulders and walked in. Job interview, most likely.

I fiddled with my hands on the sidewalk, realized I was waiting for her. I wanted to see if she got the job, I wanted to get her coffee and pastry, take her on a walk with me and ask her questions; I wondered what she sounded like.

Instead, I went across the street and got myself coffee and a pastry, picking something I thought she'd like, a small chocolate croissant. _Stop_, I told myself. This wasn't right; she had no idea the kinds of things I was thinking about her. She would be repulsed. So I sat with my back to the window, thought of other things like going into work later that morning. There was some evaluation deadline approaching and I tried to keep awake while thinking of the tedium of paper work and fluorescent lighting.

When I finished and left I had this daydream of walking outside and running into her, it would be alright to see her then, I thought. Finding her once was good, but a second time – that meant something.

But she wasn't anywhere and after I went up and down both sides of the street I decided to give up on what must have been a mirage.

Work dragged, as it tends to do. I was late, but I was also very good at my job and so nobody minded my few stolen minutes.

All day long, I saw her face, but from a distance I couldn't make it all out and I refused to let my imagination fill in the gaps. I wondered about her hair and her eyes, the same color, but what shade? And her skin, was it as smooth and perfect as I'd thought? She was small, I could tell that much, but how small, and if she were pressed tight against me where would she lean her head? I had to see her again, but knew that I would never.

I stayed at work late, the deadline I'd hardly remembered turned out to be the very next morning. I left at nearly eight o'clock, but had no fear of walking home in the dark. If there was a woman somewhere doing the same thing, and we crossed paths tonight, would she be afraid of me? I shook my head at the non-sequitor. Nothing about my day had been usual; I felt punch drunk and sluggish as I headed for the stairs.

Outside, I slipped on my coat and tucked my hands in the pockets. It was getting threadbare and I felt the night breezes slipping through the worn spots. I hunched down into it, making a note to myself to find a new one before winter hit.

Again, I thought of my winter morning.

About halfway home, I noticed something. Or someone, rather – a woman. The streets for the most part were clear because of the chill in the air, on evenings like these people congregated inside their homes, or the movies, restaurants, bars. Until this woman, I was the only other person outside. She wasn't wearing a jacket or anything of the sort; I wanted to cover her, even if only in my shabby coat. It was a strange kind of desire.

She was far from me, too far to make out exactly what she was doing.

Her movements were jerky and rushed and when she moved through a yellow pool of light from the street lamp, things started clicking into place. It was the girl, the one I'd been thinking of all day, and I was seeing her a second time, and this time it meant something. I remembered she'd had a jacket on before.

She stopped just outside the light's radiance, her head whipping right, and then left. She held a hand at her chest tightly. I stood dumbly, my mind not prepared for what might be happening, or what might have just happened.

And then she saw me, I thought she'd run and she did, but toward me instead of away. I felt something, adrenaline, pump through my veins. She called out for help, her voice terrified. She screamed out again and I saw that she was not alone, a man followed, his gait cocky and un-worried. He hadn't seen me yet. I could help her, I knew, I could rip that man apart for even thinking about her.

I was thinking about it, and in those seconds I had started moving closer. I wanted it – the violence – I craved it. Not because I was violent, but because I knew he'd hurt her. But he wouldn't touch her again; that woman was not prey. He was.

She collided with me; her hands pulling at my coat, hard. "Help me," her voice was choked and begging, her lip split; I could see the thin trail of red that ended at her chin. The hand that had been so tightly against her chest had been holding the top of her dress together; I could see now where it had been ripped open. I put her behind me. Her hands tugged on the back of my jacket; she just wanted to get away from here.

When I stepped forward, the creature that was after her stepped backward. He raised his hands up as if to say _hey, it's cool_. He told me not to believe her, that she was a tease, a slut, a liar and then after I hit him the first time, he stopped saying anything.

She must have called the police, or someone did because they showed up not long after, lights flashing. They pointed their guns at me and I realized they thought I was the dangerous one. There was shouting, her voice telling them it wasn't me; I backed off.

She talked them down rapidly, putting herself between their guns and me and I loved her then for trying to protect me.

They gave her a blanket, paramedics put the creature on a gurney, one hand cuffed to the rail; he was going to be fine they said - eventually. The EMT's looked at my hands; I stared down at them. Blood, but not mine, smeared across my knuckles; I felt like I was someone else, someone capable of beating a man into unconsciousness. I remembered the satisfying feeling of breaking his nose, the low crunch and his contorted face. And then I heard the only voice that could have reached me. She said, "I want to see him."

I looked up and she was there, walking toward me, my angel.

She stepped very close and picked up my hand, the one an EMT had already cleaned. My breath was sharp at the shock I felt at her touch. "Sorry," she let go suddenly, "did that hurt?"

I didn't understand and when she glanced down, I did as well. My hand was bruised and faintly swollen, the knuckles purple in some places, green in others; it was sore, but nothing was broken. "No," I said, raising my hand back up, "it doesn't hurt." She looked at it again, but didn't touch. I wanted to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trace my fingers over her cheekbones, make sure that she was real and intact. But I couldn't, not unless she let me.

The police interrupted; they asked questions and took her away. I watched them lead her to a cruiser; she sat in the backseat, her legs resting out the open door. Her feet barely touched the ground.

We both ended up at the station, but separately. They talked to her longer than they talked to me and this time I stuck around, purposely waiting for her. I had to make sure she got home, that they took care of her. So I sat at the front across from a drunk; he called me Gabriel and I thought of the archangel.

When she came out her eyes found me immediately; she smiled. The officer with her said something I couldn't hear and she nodded; he left her with me. I thought of walking her home, or taking her to mine; I didn't think I could leave her alone.

"Hi," she looked shy.

"Are you alright?" We stood together in the stale space and I wanted to take her – away, or something.

She nodded, "Officer Marks is coming back; he's going to drive me home."

I felt the disappointment lace through my relief that she was here.

She shifted from one foot to the other, "I wanted to say…thank you," the way she said the words made me think that she believed them to be ineffectual; I wanted to laugh at the thought. She didn't have to thank me. Her fingers wound around my palm, careful not to touch the back of my hand. I let the very tips of my fingers brush hers.

"So," she said, letting go. "I was wondering if you wanted to get a cup of coffee or something sometime? I'd like to get to know the man that saved my life," her eyes were down and her color was high when she spoke, but her words were firm.

I had no choice in the matter nor did I wish to have one. "I'd like that."

We made plans for Saturday morning before Officer Marks came back to take her home.

I followed the direction of the cruiser for as far as I could before it left me behind completely and then I kept going anyway; I felt as though there was a trail I could follow – the feel of her, her scent, light and sweet. But I only found myself turned around; I rarely ventured to more places other than the park, work, and home, so I found my sense of place skewed in the city's narrow streets. I retraced my steps and by the time I got home, it was nearly time to get up again.

I stretched tiredly across my bed and stared at the white ceiling.

I saw her up there above me, what she looked like when she was afraid. Heart pounding, face flushed, her small fingers clutching me, voice breathless. My hands gripped the bedspread tight. Her words, the way she begged me, her hair wild and in her face. My hands gripped tighter.

The way she touched me so softly afterward, after she watched the way I wanted to kill that other man, like she could hurt _me_.

Before I fell asleep I said it once, the name I'd learned tonight – Bella. "Beautiful."

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Author's Note: Still here? Thanks for trying this out with me; it's an idea I've had for a really long time.


	3. Two: Sentinel

Author's Note: Quick clarification - the italics in the prologue are not anything Edward was watching or remembering, it was all in his imagination. More at the bottom.

* * *

Two: Sentinel

Where did you grow up?

What do you do for fun?

What was the last thing that really made you laugh?

When is your birthday?

What book are you reading right now?

I started a list when I woke up on Friday, and then added to it at work, when I got home, and when I woke up in the middle of the night. It went on for pages, even while purposely using cramped and dense handwriting.

Saturday morning I woke up before dawn and recited questions in the shower. If you could live anywhere, where would it be? What's your favorite movie/color/flower/time of day? There was another one, something I wanted to ask, but standing in the shower I couldn't remember it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of it, pressing a hand into the cold tiles; they were white, or they used to be. What is – no – where was the…how – what was, if you…My hand fisted of its own accord a slammed into the shower wall. I yanked my hand back and held it close to me; the swelling had gone down, but the bruises on my knuckles were still a very dark purple and painful to the touch. I didn't want Bella to see them, but I had no way of covering them up. She couldn't see me that way – violent and unhinged, so making a good impression today was vital. I had to leave her with a better memory.

In my bedroom, I pulled out clothes that I'd washed the day before – jeans, grey pullover sweater, normal. It was something a person being seen with her might wear, I hoped. In my coat pocket, I stuffed my list.

I walked to the coffee shop we'd agreed to meet at; it was downtown, a block off of the law office I'd seen her at; I wondered if she lived nearby. I was very early. To keep my seat at a little corner table, I had to order something, so I got a black coffee. The barista noticed my hands, but didn't say anything.

Out the window, I watched for her and ignored the waitress that stopped by more than once.

Bella showed up between a crush of people, a flash of blue coat among all the black. She was an angel, better than I remembered; she glowed, moving through the people like they weren't there. At the last second before she got to the door, a teenage boy ran into her and I jerked upward in my seat, but Bella only smiled and said some quick platitude before walking around him.

She wasn't alone; it took me until then to realize it. Some small girl walked with her, short hair; they almost looked like sisters. I reached into my pocket, gripped my list of questions. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, we should be alone. It made no sense that she'd want someone else here. I would never hurt her.

Bella opened the door for her friend and then looked around for me; I stood and waved. They both smiled at me and the friend hurried past the customers, much faster than I thought was necessary. Bella was about a step or two behind her.

"Are you Edward?" The girl asked. She was very little, but lacked Bella's fragile beauty; she took up a lot space, it seemed.

"Yes, I'm -,"

She threw her arms around me and instinctively, I raised my arms away from her as if in surrender. "Thank you so much," she whispered into my shirt. She pulled back, but didn't let me go. "If you hadn't been there…," her eyes watered and then she smiled and shook her head. She stepped back.

Bella was standing just behind her, the smallest smile touching her lips. "This is Alice; she wanted to meet you."

Hearing her voice and the explanation made me feel better. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe being only with me; her friend just wanted to come too. I could live with it for now. And if today went well, Bella and I would get our chance for privacy soon enough. I cleared my throat and introduced myself properly and offered them the seats across from mine. Bella sat down diagonally from me, but Alice excused herself to order.

"Sorry for the surprise, I would have called, but…,"

"Here, let me have your phone; I'll put myself in."

She fumbled for a second, but then found it at the bottom of her purse; instead of handing it to me she set it on the table. I took it and hit a button to light up the screen.

"Your _hands_."

I looked up and saw that she was staring, her eyebrows pulled down. I wanted to reach up and massage away the crease that formed between them, but I just held the phone more tightly, my fingers working over the buttons quickly. When I was done, I slid the phone over to her and hid my hands under the table. "They look worse than they feel." She had a hand out like she might have reached for me and I cursed myself for hiding them so quickly.

Bella shrugged out of her coat and it hung loosely around her slim figure; underneath she wore a simple chocolate colored shirt. "Are you sure?" She was still frowning.

I smiled and tried to reassure her that it was only a few bruises, but Alice returned with two covered cups; she set one in front of Bella and said she got her "the usual."

"What's the usual?" I asked too fast.

"Hot chocolate, I don't drink coffee, low caffeine tolerance."

"Oh," I tried to fix it. "We could go somewhere else if you'd like or…just go for a walk or something."

"No, no, it's fine," she smiled and I noticed barely visible creases at the corners of her eyes; Bella was someone who smiled a lot. I leaned back into my seat; in my pocket, my hand felt along the folds of the papers like a talisman.

Alice was the natural leader of the conversation; she was uninhibited and fired off question after question which I answered with increasing anxiety. I wanted her to leave, to have some emergency that called only her away, but that was impossible, I knew. If something took her away, it would inevitably take Bella away as well; she was that kind of friend. So I was polite and asked questions back, though I wasn't as good at it. Her husband was a police detective, she did something in finance. Bella listened quietly, her arms crossed on the table; I could smell this very soft flower smell and tried to lean into it without being obvious.

"Yeah, Bella's a big reader too," Alice said offhand to something I'd said.

"Like what?" I turned as fully as I could to face her.

"Um," the question seemed to fluster her, "it'd be hard to narrow it down…," she thought for a minute. "Classic literature, the Bronte sisters, Austen, Shakespeare, um, I'm not sure what else," she smiled again, but kept her eyes down.

Bella was smart, very much so, I realized. Of course she was; would I ever be able to keep up with that? Not likely, but I would try.

After a while Alice began to beg off, saying she and Bella had some things to do. I stood, fighting disappointment, to say goodbye; when I did, my list fell out of my pocket, but I didn't notice right away. Alice shook my hand and said it was nice to meet me. Bella smiled, looking into my eyes this time, and took my hand much more lightly than Alice. I covered hers with my other hand.

"What's this?" Alice reached down to something near our feet – my list. She straightened and looked at the folded bundle of paper.

I snatched it out of her hands. "That's mine." I realized belatedly that I'd startled them both so I stuffed it back in my pocket and rubbed the back of my head. "Just a grocery list."

"Pretty long grocery list," Alice said.

I shrugged, "yeah."

We said goodbye again and I walked them outside before they went one way and I went the other. I wasn't sure how that had gone; I was worried that I'd scared them. Bella had smiled at me though, four separate times, and she'd reached for me twice, taken my hand once and she didn't flinch when I put her hand between the both of mine. Her skin was thin and soft and I could feel the small bones underneath. She didn't speak much, she observed; I could tell her dark eyes would miss nothing. I understood that I would have to step up my game.

When I looked up from the sidewalk, I saw that I'd turned around. I was walking toward Bella and her friend rather than away from them like I'd started; I just couldn't stay away, even unconsciously. They weren't anywhere I could see, but they'd gone in this direction; so I slowed my pace, glancing in store windows.

Another ten yards or so I saw them coming out of a department store, Bella was carrying a tiny white bag and I wondered what kind of clothing would fit in a bag that small. _Lingerie, _surely. Something silky and white that tied together with a thin ribbon in the front just so and when you pulled on the little knot, the two sides would fall open across her perfect skin.

My face was hot. I walked with the two women from across the street, trying not to look at her little bag, trying not to think anymore about what might rest inside it. When they walked inside a different building, I walked into its mirror opposite on my side. A bookstore first – I bought up Shakespeare and Austen and ignored the looks I surely got from the cashier, and then went into some kind of modern art gallery. I waited for Alice to leave her, imagined ways of facilitating that end.

I sat on a bench next to a trash can when I was tired of pretending to look at whatever was in the last place; I watched the windows across the street instead. The sun was at my back, shining as well on the glass, reflecting myself back at me. It was hard to see through, but if Bella moved to just the right angle, not impossible. She browsed a display shelf of something, her fingertips brushing over it; I thought of her hands on me again, clutching, pulling at my coat, trying to take me with her. I thought of my hands on her.

And then, just like that, they were saying goodbye on the sidewalk. Alice hugged her quickly before finally departing. Bella kept walking and I moved too, tethered to her with very thick rope; I counted to one hundred.

Jaywalking, I squeezed between two cars parked in the street. "Bella?" It was difficult, pretending to only run into her; the lie felt unnatural and ill-fitting.

She stopped mid-stride and her expression changed to one of friendly surprise. "Edward? Hi," she paused, no doubt searching for words. "I…keep running into you."

I moved to a spot out of the direct traffic flow. "Hopefully, this time is better." She smiled, but didn't say anything. "So," I wanted her away from other people, "heading this way?" I gestured the direction I already knew she was taking.

"Yeah, just – going home."

I raised my eyebrows, "I'll walk you?"

Bella switched her bag from her right to left hand; inside it, all I could see was tissue paper. "Sure."

I matched the pace she set and tried to stare, inconspicuously, at what the sunlight did to her skin.

"You know," she said after a minute, "I feel like I haven't really been able to thank you -,"

"But you did, that night," I reminded her.

She shrugged, "I guess, I - that's not very much, you know?"

I smiled at her. She was so grateful; she wanted to do more for me, but I couldn't take advantage of her kindness. "I'm just glad you're alright."

We walked past the park, the one I'd first seen her in, but this time we used the sidewalk that ran around the perimeter. Her pace was leisurely and I believed maybe, that she was increasing our time together. I opened my mouth to ask her to dinner, but the words wouldn't come.

"Well, I'm right up there," she looked in the direction of a two story brownstone; there were two houses between me and it, five steps up to the front door, rounded windows on one side; the street was named Parkside Lane.

"Alright then," and then I said, "oh, how did your job interview go?" I realized my error when I saw her face change.

"It was – did I tell you about that?" That stress crease formed between her eyebrows.

I tried to recover, tendrils of panic tightening around my insides, "yeah, at the coffee place this morning."

She was staring at the ground as if replaying the day in her head; I knew she didn't believe me, but that she was too good to believe the worst. "Oh," her whole body was different now. I wanted to explain - that first meeting had truly been a coincidence. I thought about how close I'd been to her home then, how close I'd been to her every time I ran that path. So I didn't say anything. "It was fine," she cleared her throat, "I haven't heard anything yet." I could see her thumbnail picking at the braided handle of her bag; the rest of her body was frozen, like a deer caught in the middle of the road.

"Um -,"

"I should get going, it was nice seeing you today," she smiled at me while taking a step back.

Don't go yet, I was thinking, but instead I told her goodbye, that maybe I'd run into her again. What must have been going through her head, I couldn't say, but she didn't understand I was sure. I wasn't some deranged lunatic; I had happened upon her by chance twice and fate had looked my way. I'd protected her; she'd needed me there and I was there.

That was the first night I kept watch over my angel's home.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone reading and thanks to everyone who donated to MsKathy's Haiti relief effort, donations were up over 75 thousand last time I checked; I don't even have words to express how incredible that is. You guys are pretty awesome.


	4. Three: Go Inside

Three: Go Inside

I wore my running clothes and a black sweatshirt with a hood because it was so cold. I brought my list of questions with me, but nothing to write with; instead I kept it in my pocket like a good luck charm or a worry stone.

There was a bench, painted green, about ten or fifteen yards into Bella's park. In high school, we had lunch tables painted that exact shade and thick too, from years of being recoated. I pressed my thumb nail into it now and felt it give; when I ran my fingers over the seat I noticed the other carvings – _C and E 4EVR _and_ Bree 6/25/06. _I thought about bringing a knife with me the next time and that I should buy gloves because the tips of my fingers were numb.

The second floor of Bella's home was obscured through the trees, but if the lights were on inside and the curtains were drawn back downstairs, I could see inside her kitchen on one side and her living room on the other. She had a light blue dining table in the nook made by the rounded windows; it had an empty flower vase on it. If I stood at the window, the bottom sill was level with my shoulders. I only came that close when she wasn't there.

In the other window were a couch and loveseat, a fireplace, and books, no television. The couch was the color of sand and the fireplace and mantle were brick. She had nothing on the walls and I wondered if she was lonely or just didn't have a taste for decoration.

Those moments when I was allowed to see into her world carried me for a while. I imagined her occupying those spaces, keeping warm by the fire, falling asleep with her book open on her chest, her cheeks flush with sleep, vulnerable. I thought of her in the kitchen, at the table or leaning against the counter deciding what to eat. Walking on the white tiles in warm socks, filling her vase, and kept safe without knowing it. She could live quietly, with no fear of the darker shadows on the periphery because I was there, at the edges of her always.

Two weeks, I watched over her during the night. I found I no longer needed to sleep, my body seemed to understand.

But my mind was insatiable and I was not still. For two weeks I kept her safe. And then things changed.

My limbs felt heavy and I was unsure if I was awake or asleep. I rested against the hard bench and felt the bitingly cold air, but somehow I was also inside Bella's home. It was warm and I was with her; she smiled at me from where she stood in the kitchen. I was at the table, but then I was up, needing to be nearer. "Spaghetti?" She asked.

I shook my head and leaned over her, my hands on the counter on either side of her.

"Chicken?" She grinned and raised her face to me, teasing. When I brought my lips to the pulse point under her ear, her breathing faltered. "Pizza?"

I smiled and let my breath skim her jaw line, "no pizza."

My eyes opened and I was sitting on the bench again. I could see the air I exhaled, my eyes stung and my body ached. I needed sleep after all.

The early morning joggers were doing their circuits, a few people dressed in office clothes cut through the park on their way to work. Across the street, Bella's front door was opening. She was wearing her brown boots again, above that a coat that covered her outfit. Her hair was down and it shined despite the deep cloud cover. She carried a small purse on her shoulder and was fumbling with her keys; I held the edge of my bench securely to keep from getting up.

Something was wrong with her lock; she pulled the key out and pushed it back in again, hitched her purse higher and then let go, yanking her key from the lock completely.

I couldn't fix it, I knew nothing about locks.

Bella walked past me; she looked purposeful and if I'd gone with her, I'm sure we would have ended up at the law office where she'd interviewed. She got the job, I thought. I stood up to watch her back and felt painfully stretched in two directions. Toward Bella and toward her home, I _needed_ one or the other. My heart raced and this itching, crawling thing gripped me from the middle. _Go inside_. It was ugly and craving, winding and taking and I let it because I wanted what it wanted. So I waited until I couldn't see Bella anymore and then I went to her doorstep and just like that, I was inside.

I thought I'd feel the relief of being near her things, but instead I was angry. Her lock was broken completely and I couldn't fix it myself or I would. It meant anyone could let themselves in at any time and Bella was all alone. I'd have to watch more closely, re-double my efforts. Men were attracted to her, she didn't notice, but I did. They wanted her body; I wanted – something else. I shut the door behind me.

It held the flower and sun smell I remembered from her hair. I felt the creeping vine spread and twist around my arms and legs, it tugged a little at a time. _More_. It wasn't enough to stand here, I needed to touch.

The kitchen first. I sat in the chairs at the table, picked up the vase and set it back exactly as I found it. Her sink was clean; her refrigerator was nearly empty. I frowned, she didn't eat enough. There were no magnets or pictures stuck to the front either and I thought again about how she might be lonely. I fingered the list in my sweatshirt pocket.

The living room next. I ran my fingers over the back of the couch; it had soft fabric and thick cushions. I stared at it, left it alone, and moved to a stack of books on the coffee table. It matched what she'd told me at the coffee shop, classics. My own recently purchased copies sat on my bed still in their bag; I couldn't read them yet because I'd been staying here. But I wanted to, I wanted to know her world and be a part of it. She had no bookshelves, just stacks set haphazardly around the space: I grinned at the ordered disorganization. It proved to me that she was human too.

I stood at the foot of the stairs for a long while, staring at that place I couldn't see when I watched from the park. Her bedroom was up there. _More_.

There was only one door at the top; it was on the left and stood open a few inches, like I was being given permission. Past it was the corner of her bed and the edge of a purple comforter, the light from the window shaded everything grey. It was only a sliver so I pushed open the door to see the rest of the room; my heart thudded heavily in my chest. I was excited. Anxious, restless, aroused, and disgusted, I was in Bella's bedroom.

I wanted to touch everything. The blankets that she slept in, I pulled them back and pressed my hand into the pillow Bella rested her head on at night. My hand was shaking and I couldn't stop so I pushed it in further, so it would leave a print. I wondered if she would be gone all day and if she'd see it when she got back, maybe I wanted her to. No, I tugged on the pillowcase, smoothing it out; it wouldn't be right. In my mind, I saw her face afraid, but of me this time. That surprise with lips parted and heart fluttering. I put my hands down on the mattress, my breath coming so quickly the room spun. _More_.

I released the sheets, but left them bunched into the shape of the inside of my hands. _I don't belong here._

It hit me quickly and hard, I couldn't be here. She couldn't see me here; I would terrify her and I would never see her again. It wasn't right; I said this to myself as I jogged down the steps. I pushed the front door open with no caution or awareness that someone might notice me or wonder what I was doing.

I went home in a state of inhuman auto-pilot. I didn't know how long it took, when it was, or how much time I'd spent in Bella's home. I walked across my miniscule apartment in a few short strides, paused long enough to toe off my shoes, and fell into bed. I hadn't slept in a very long time, time being relative at this point. It changed on me, going from being measured in minutes and days to being measured by the words _with_ and _without_. I stretched over the top of my bed and my hand came into contact with my plastic shopping bag, the one with the books. I was still touching it when I fell asleep.

Dreams and nightmares, I never remembered them. But while I slept, I had a dream that I would remember in bits and pieces as I woke up. In it, I was too strong and Bella was very afraid. I was trying to caress her face, her arms, her waist, but the lightest touch broke and bruised her pale skin. Her bruises were dark and her blood was nearly black as it ran between my fingers and over my palms. She was still so beautiful, I was trying to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. _You're perfect, it's alright, shh_; I whispered it while I was killing her.

I woke up in a panic that it had all been real, that somehow I'd gone back there and hurt Bella. I rubbed my hands over my face, slick with sweat, and shook my head. I could never do that, I'd kill myself first. She had to be in the world even if I wasn't.

The clock on my bedside table was flashing, as if the power had gone out sometime. I pulled my phone out and saw that I had missed calls, voice mails, none from Bella. I checked the time and when I saw how late it was my breath went shallow. I was supposed to be at Bella's hours ago. Her lock was broken.

I yanked my shoes back on and left, barely remembering to shut my door. I ran the couple of miles to her home in the darkness, taking the shortcuts through the alleys. _Her lock was broken. _I cursed my traitorous body for the unconscious black I'd just spent hours inside. I wanted to never sleep again. I wanted to see Bella; I had to make sure she was alright.

The night was quiet aside from the sound of my shoes on the sidewalk. I paced four steps left and then right and in my head I was split in two. I didn't belong inside, that wasn't what I was there for, I was here to be just outside her life. Outside.

_Inside_. The word soothed like a lover's whisper in my ear. She wouldn't know; she didn't know about today, she wouldn't know about tonight.

I walked up the steps and tested the doorknob and found that the lock was still broken. The door opened quickly and silently. I slid inside; the only noise the small click of the door closing behind me. I'd never thought of that sound being threatening before.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs and felt the crawling, pulling thing around me again. Up, it wanted to go up. I held still for a minute, listening for Bella, but heard nothing. One step, and then another, and then I was at the top. Her door was open again those few inches as if to say, _it's alright_. I would only check on her, I promised myself, and only this once. The next night I would relegate myself to the park outside her window. I used the tips of my fingers to push the door open the rest of the way.

Bella's slender form lifted the blankets only slightly; she was on her side, but as I stepped into her room she turned onto her back. I felt a coiling of nerves in my stomach as I thought of how easily she could wake up to find me here. I thought of her afraid and pushed it aside.

I came closer until I was at the foot of the bed and then closer until I was right next to her. She slept deeply, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. She was so beautiful, one arm resting above her head, her hair fanned out around her face. I was caught up completely in her and time became relative again. _More_.

Somehow my dream worked its way into my thoughts, the way I'd broken this fragile girl with hardly a touch. I wanted to prove it wrong.

My hand hovered half raised at my side and there was a snap - a disconnect - as the thing, the monster, got its way. My fingers stretched toward her face and I became something else. I felt her light breaths on my skin as I reached past her mouth to her cheek.

_Perfect_.

* * *

Author's Note: I must say, getting into the mindset to write this kind of creeps me out. Anyway, I got a question in the reviews which basically asked - is it possible for Edward to be completely normal and then just lose it like this? The answer is "not really." Edward is an "unreliable narrator" which essentially means his point of view is distorted; just how off his narrative is depends on how off his reality is from "normal" reality because this Edward tells the truth, but as he sees it. Good question!

Also, I've put together a playlist for this story. It doesn't really go in chapter order, it's more like Edward's descent as he gets deeper into this world. Anyway, it's on my homepage, check it out if you'd like some extra creepy Edwardness.


	5. Four: Lies

Author's Notes: The italics are fantasies, most definitely not real.

* * *

Four: Lies

Bella had changed her bed linen. I hadn't noticed it right away and it was hard to see in the dark, but she had. Before, her sheets were light purple and now they were white. _Why? _When I'd been there before I hadn't left any sign that I could remember. I thought back again but things were melting together. They didn't make any sense.

During the night, after I'd gone back to the park, I decided to explain myself. I'd confess and she'd understand that my intentions were good. But when the morning made things clearer I changed my mind.

She left at the same time for the next few days. Sometimes I went with her and sometimes I went inside her house. It was good being in either place; it satiated the monster for a while. I felt the vines of its control slacken from around my arms and legs and my own blood rush back through and fill me.

I started living in her home when she wasn't there. I read her books and used her shower; I hoped her flower and sun smell was from the soap, but I was wrong. It was something else altogether that I couldn't pinpoint yet, it was a part of her skin, her body. I wanted it, I wanted to consume, I wanted to drink her until there was nothing left. For some reason, I remembered her sleeping.

The bath towel she used was the same brown color as her couch; I used it and then put it in the dryer so she wouldn't notice the extra wetness. Everything else in the bathroom was white; it fit her, my angel.

She had few belongings that gave me insight on her, which was frustrating. I began to think that the only way I'd know her was by contact. I didn't want that, it wasn't my role. But I would do it if I had to. And as more time passed, I felt the tightening and forcing will of the monster. _More_.

While I was still me, I devoured what I could.

Bella walked to work, I didn't think she even had a car. Other than her boots, she only wore flat shoes. Her hair was usually down and she didn't wear makeup, though she had a little in her bathroom. It didn't look like it had ever been touched. She had lunch every day in either the deli across from the law office or a little diner a block over; she always ate alone. I received some sort of satisfaction from that.

At night, she read in the living room or used her laptop. She rarely sat at her dining table and didn't get the newspaper. She talked on the phone a good bit, but no one ever came over. I thought sometimes about coming over when she was there.

She got her lock fixed at some point, so I found a new way in through a window at the back of her house.

On one of these days, I laid down in Bella's bed. I don't know why, I hadn't done it before. I pressed my face into the pillow scented by her hair and then turned onto my back; I closed my eyes and Bella was everywhere. Her scent and the lightest feel of her skin while she slept - the touch I should not have taken, but did anyway. I wanted it too much, needed it. And she didn't break or bruise or wake up, I did it and she was alright. It gave me an odd hopefulness that I'd be able to do it again. I could touch her again.

_When I got into bed, she was already asleep, the sheet pushed far down her bare back. I stayed in the doorway, watching the moonlight on her skin. When I couldn't wait any longer, I came closer._

I was hard. _She did this._ There was no right and wrong, but there was need, there was that.

_I grazed my fingertips in a languid path down her back and then further, under the sheet and down one slender leg. She stirred, but didn't say anything though I knew she was awake now. I pushed the blankets down and then with the same hand I traced the outside of her right thigh; her muscles tightened infinitesimally and my mouth curved up on one side. I palmed her hip and then finally heard the smallest of moans when my fingers skimmed the spot just below it. "Edward."_

_ I got onto the bed, unable to deny the request in that one little word. I put my legs between hers and then leaned down over her, kissed her shoulder. I held my weight off her with one arm and used the other to wrap around her middle. Her breath finally released when I pushed inside her._

_ We set an unhurried pace and I felt Bella below me, her body writhing against mine, trying to find more friction. Always more. I gave in to her._

I shuddered in release, eyes closed tight, mouth open. _So fucking good_.

Instead of any lingering satisfaction, I felt panic and disgust at what I'd just done. I got up and fixed my jeans, stripped her bed, and carried it all to the first floor. Her laundry room was past the kitchen and behind the stairs so I went there feeling like this was getting too real. I wasn't real; I was supposed to be a ghost in her background.

The time - I had no idea when it was and for the first time in weeks I cared. It seemed early still, so I washed Bella's sheets and hoped she wouldn't notice. Once they were dry I put them back onto her bed and left without checking to make sure everything was put away. I'd forgotten my place in her life. _Stupid_. My hands were shaking.

I ran as if it were the normal thing for me to do at this time of day. I went back to the apartment that didn't look like my apartment anymore except for the plastic bag still on my bed. Inside the bathroom I washed my face with water; it ran and dripped off my chin when I looked in the mirror. I covered my reflected eyes and noticed that my hands were looking better. Soon enough there'd be no sign that Bella and I had ever met and I'd disappear completely. Or she would.

I broke the glass with my nearly healed hand. It didn't shatter, but cracked like a spider web around my fist. It looked like the web was bleeding, but that was me.

I fixed my hand, laid down in my own bed, and slept.

I went back to the park during the night again, but didn't wander from the bench. Bella was safe, from others and from me. I kept the monster at bay. It curled somewhere near my stomach and lay dormant, waiting for another moment I was sure. But for now, I could only feel the small scratching of it's claws on my insides. I could live with that.

The next day must have been Saturday because Bella didn't follow her normal routine. Her house was quiet until much later and when she walked outside she was wearing jeans. They looked soft and worn and like they'd been through many washings. The t-shirt was from her old university. Bella walked through the park and I followed. Some part, I'd like to think some good part, wanted her to turn around and see me. I wanted her to smile and remember my name and take my arm when we walked.

_"Edward, hi," she smiled in that open way she had._

_ We talked, caught up, and then she said, "I was just going to lunch, want to join me?"_

_ I smiled, "I'd love to."_

I lost track of her. I saw her step from the shade under the trees to the bright sunlight at the other end of the park and then she was gone. She vanished and I stood there dumbly for some time wondering if she'd been an apparition this whole time; it wasn't the first time I'd thought it. But some bit of reality, or some thing, spoke in my head. _Find her_. So I tried.

I went to the law office, walked inside even, and asked for her. The woman at the front desk looked me up and down and said Bella didn't work on Saturdays. On the way out, I caught my reflection in the glass doors. _Dirty, tired, aged_, my face said. I thought for a minute about going home and showering, or trying to sleep, or changing my clothes. Bella couldn't see me this way. Instead, I kept walking. I went to her favorite lunch spots, went to the shop I'd seen her and her friend at however long ago, went to the book store, went anywhere she'd ever passed by. She was nowhere.

Panic and helplessness can be paralyzing. I stood on the sidewalk outside a building whose window Bella had once looked in, feeling like I too was nowhere. If it weren't for the human traffic jostling past me, I would have believed it. The crowd pushed at my back and I let it lead me.

Somehow I found myself back at my bench. I saw the carving _Bella_, just her name, and couldn't remember when I'd done or with what. I ran my thumb back and forth over it, waiting for her to come back to me.

When she did return, at first I didn't believe it was really her. I watched from my seat until every memorized detail of her face came into focus. I was so happy that she was back; I stood without thinking and went over to her. On my way, I realized she wasn't alone. There was a man on her other side; she laughed at something he said and he slung and arm casually over her shoulder. He squeezed it and pulled her into his side; she pushed away from him, looking playful.

The scratching and pulling thing inside twisted. _No_. This wasn't right.

Bella saw me and at the same time, the man let go of her. She stopped walking, looking unsure. I counted in my head until I was relaxed enough to say something.

"Bella, hi," I sounded casual enough. I walked over, trying to ignore the fact that she was with a man.

"E-Edward," she smiled at me, but it didn't reach her eyes. Something was wrong. "How are you?" She asked. The man was standing too closely, almost between us, challenging and protective. I wanted to beat that look off his face, as if I was the dangerous one? _She's mine_.

I fisted my hands and then released them. I didn't want Bella to see me like that again. "Fine…I'm good…," I felt the clawing under my skin. _More_. "I haven't seen you in a while."

She looked down for a beat and then back at me. "Yeah, I've been really busy, new job and stuff."

_She's lying_. I heard the voice too loud in my head. I didn't know what to do to quiet it. I ran a hand through my hair, pressing down to relieve the tension.

_Moremoremore_.

Bella shifted her weight.

"We should catch up or something," I started. "Maybe dinner? Tonight?"

She opened her mouth into a small "o," "I – I don't know…,"she leaned minutely closer to the man and for the first time, I really looked at him. He was very tall, taller than me, with dark hair, blue eyes, and he was big - threatening. "I don't think it's such a good idea."

I started to ask why she didn't think so when she spoke up again. "I have a – I mean, this, this is my boyfriend." She grabbed his hand quickly, almost too quickly.

I touched my head again, made it look like I wasn't trying to massage the pain out of it. The monster growled, low and long and deep. It flexed and dug in and I felt like I was bleeding. _No_. "I…oh…,"

Bella smiled uncomfortably; she was trying to be friendly. "Um, Edward this is Emmett, Emmett, Edward. He's the one who…," she couldn't seem to finish.

_The one who saved your life_.

Emmett put his hand out for me to shake and I complied. He didn't smile. Instead he watched; I felt studied, like an experiment.

"Well…we should get going," Bella said after a minute.

I don't really remember saying goodbye, or anything else. I don't remember walking away though I did. The numbness was good. It kept the bad out.

When I came to, it was nighttime. I was near a bar or a club or something; I could hear music and voices pouring out whenever someone opened the door. I stood across from it, just outside the light from a streetlamp, and debated going inside. The noise and the smell might have been just enough to drown out the darkness. I wanted to and for a second I thought I could, but then invariably I returned to her face.

The thumping beat of a song caught my attention and I turned back to the bar once more before I left. A couple was leaving, their arms around each other. I felt the thing's jealousy, but I watched anyway. The woman was attractive, superficially. Tall, blonde, short skirt and high heels, she looked like someone just waiting to be picked up. She put her hands on the man's shoulders and pushed him until his back was against the wall; she kissed him. Recognition hit me and I had to use every bit of will power I had to stay where I was.

Because the man was Emmett and the woman wasn't Bella.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, I know this is pretty warped, but I couldn't not write it. Anyway, there are three more updates until this one is finished. The epilogue will be the only chapter not in Edward's point of view, but I haven't decided whose it will be in or if it'll just be third person. Any suggestions?


	6. Five: Taking Action

Five: Taking Action

_Bella._

I was in her house again and she was grateful for me. She loved me and she was fucking _grateful_.

When I opened my eyes, I was on the bench – not in her house. She didn't love me, reminding myself of that was like a wound inflicted by my own hand, suicide or something else that took me farther away from her. _I_ loved _her_, I said in my mind, not the other way around. She could be convinced though, I was sure. The time for keeping my distance was up; the company she kept was proof enough of that.

I dug my thumbnail into the thickly dried paint on the seatback. _Emmett_. I sneered at the name. He was no better than the creature I'd saved Bella from the day we met; he just wore a better disguise. He'd held her hand and she let him. I felt sympathy for her that she couldn't discern between someone that only wanted to keep her from harm and someone that wanted to cause her harm. I would help her, with me around she'd never have to worry; I could promise her that. First, I had to deal with Emmett. The clawed thing inside me coiled and released, guiding. Some other unattached part of me said that I should have been worried but I ignored it.

_Bella Bella Bella. _It set the beat of my footsteps as I walked away from her home. I had things to figure out. The movement helped me to think and I didn't wander far, in case she needed me. I looped the blocks around her neighborhood.

I knew virtually nothing of Emmett except that he was using Bella for whatever degrading purpose and he had at least one other woman on the side. I thought of the blonde in the sadly hopeful short skirt and then of my angel. The two held appeal in opposite ways, but regardless, Bella was not meant for him.

And then, as if my body knew what Bella was doing, I made it back to the park just as she was leaving her house. I leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree to look at her.

Her hair was down; it looked glossy in the early light and I could smell her shampoo, if only by memory. _My perfect winter morning_. Her cheeks were flushed and her coat covered most of her body. She glanced to the right and something inside me stirred. It was like she was looking for someone. I wanted to tell her that I was here and that she didn't have to be afraid. Instead, I stayed where I was and let her walk a short way before I took up step behind her.

It didn't occur to me until then to wonder where she was going. The day before was Saturday which meant today was Sunday and she didn't have to be at work. She was dressed for it though, in slacks and the wool coat she always wore to her office. I stuck my hands in my sweatshirt's front pocket and kept walking.

She stopped at a coffee place and went inside while I waited on the sidewalk across the street. From that vantage point I could see her in the large windows that spanned the front. She looked to the right and left and then got in line. She ordered something after a minute and then moved off to the side, pulling a cell phone out of her purse. Reflexively my fingers gripped my own. She put it back in her bag.

Like something or someone had caught her attention, Bella smiled and for a split second I didn't care why, only that she had. I imagined it was me she was smiling at.

_"There you are," her eyes were bright. "I ordered for you."_

_ I leaned down to press my lips to her cheek. "Sorry I'm late." I could feel her warmth and suddenly didn't care that we were in public._

_ She kissed me quickly before I could straighten up all the way. She smiled, "hi."_

_ I grinned down at her and stepped further into her space, "hey."_

It wasn't me that had captured her attention though; it was someone else – a man. He was one I hadn't seen before. I stepped off the sidewalk and into the gutter between two parked cars to get a better look. He was tall, with blonde hair; I couldn't really make out anything else. When their coffees came; she let him lead her to a table in a corner I couldn't see.

I walked across the street and before I could stop myself, I went inside. It was dangerous, but I had to see what this man wanted with Bella. I thought again about no longer keeping my distance and decided I would have to start slowly. I sat at the opposite corner and grabbed a piece of newspaper, unfolding it so I could see them over the top.

Bella gestured with her hands and right now she was saying a lot. She spoke in earnest, looking faintly frustrated. The smallest of lines creased between her eyebrows and she raised her shoulders after a while in a nonverbal _I don't know_ to whatever that man had asked. I strained to hear, wondering if it was the man's fault that she was unhappy. After a time, she stopped talking and kind of smiled, looking down at the table. She shook her head, looking a little defeated. It hurt to see. Her hands had fallen limp onto the table; the man covered one in both of his. _Mine_.

My hand gripped my stomach where I felt the claws ripping from the inside out. I forced myself to sit still. There were too many hands on her, always. I felt like I was going to be sick.

He leaned closer to Bella, still gripping her hand, and was saying something that she nodded to once. He said something else and then stood up, motioning for her to follow. She did, but her movements were heavy, like she wasn't looking forward to what they were going to do. I thought he was forcing her, but when they were both standing I watched her lips form the words _thank you_. Her eyes flickered up to his and then down to the floor.

Outside, they got into a car parked in the street and I realized I wouldn't be able to follow them any further. It made me anxious and I walked anyway until I couldn't see them anymore. Without her anywhere I could place, I felt lost. I paced up one side of a street I didn't know the name of and back down the other side. After a while, I just walked in the direction I thought she might have gone.

There were a lot of restaurants here with outdoor spaces that no one was occupying because it was too cold. The insides were all full for lunch. My stomach growled noisily; it had been a long time since I'd eaten.

"Uh…," a throat cleared, "excuse me."

I turned toward the voice. There was a blonde woman standing in front of me, but I didn't know why. No one saw me except for when they were with Bella; I had begun to think I was invisible. The girl was staring. "What?" I asked.

"You're blocking the door," she gestured behind me to the entrance of the restaurant I'd been standing near.

"Edward?" Someone else asked.

I ran an anxious hand through my hair and wished Bella was around. I wanted to hide or run or pretend I couldn't hear. There were too many people.

I looked up to the other voice. _Emmett_.

If I said I'd blacked out, it wouldn't be entirely the truth. But that's what it felt like. When I looked at him, I saw the monster that attacked Bella, I saw Emmett kissing the blonde, saw that man from earlier taking my angel's hand, and other things, blurry images that faded out like smoke at the edges.

When I saw the normal world again, my hand was throbbing, but it didn't stop me from throwing all the force I had behind it. I hit Emmett for what was apparently the second time. I was yelling something, I don't know. _You liar, I saw you with her_. Behind me, a woman was yelling. I pushed harder, but Emmett was stronger than me. He spun my arm up behind me until I thought it was going to break; I almost prayed for the comforting finality of the snap.

"It's cool, it's cool…," he was saying to someone. He yanked on my twisted arm. "Can I let you go now?"

I nodded, feeling a little like I couldn't breathe anymore. He pulled us away from the door and pushed me down on a bench; he stood.

"What the fuck, man?" He looked more surprised than anything else.

I noticed a darkening mark on his cheekbone from the only damage I'd done. I wanted to do more, but I was exhausted. I curled my sore arm over my middle and thought about just getting up and going to Bella's like I should have done to begin with, I missed her. "I saw you with her," I nodded my head in the direction I'd seen the blonde last.

His expression was confused, "yeah, she's my…what the hell are you talking about?"

"Yesterday, you and Bella said -,"

His expression was the last piece I needed before I understood. They'd lied right to my face. Something inside broke apart.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on between you guys…," he kept talking, but I didn't hear him anymore. I got up and left and he yelled something, but I didn't listen.

I went back to Bella's. I looked in her windows to see her, but she was still gone. I let myself inside and went upstairs to her bedroom. It was like a security to me to be around this part of her life; it reminded me of who she was and that she'd never lie to me unless she was forced. She was my angel.

I sat there for a long time. So long, in fact, that I was still there when Bella returned home. I heard nothing and then suddenly, the quiet slide and click of her lock turning. It was like a shot of adrenaline straight into my heart. I jumped up; I couldn't let her see me, but I had no place to hide. There were no other rooms on that level except the bathroom. I crept toward the door to listen for her, hoping she'd move into the laundry room or somewhere else where she wouldn't see me if I slipped down the stairs. I'd go out her bedroom window if I had to, but the fall would probably break at least an ankle.

Bella was talking to someone at her threshold. Through the barely opened door, I could see her but not her companion. "Jasper," she said his name on a sigh. "I really wish you wouldn't -,"

"Bella," he admonished. I didn't like hearing him say her name that way. "I'm not leaving some rookie cop to look after you when I can do it better myself."

"I just don't want you sitting in your car all night."

He said something I couldn't make out and then added, "Peter will relieve me, it isn't all night."

"What if it's nothing?" She crossed her arms in front of her, but it looked more like she was holding herself together.

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

Neither of them said anything for a minute and all I could hear was the watery pounding of blood in my ears.

Bella reached out eventually and hugged him; they mumbled something to each other before pulling away. _No_.

"I'll be back once it gets dark."

She nodded. "Will you have Alice call me when she gets home?"

After he left I backed up further into her room, unsure if I would make it to the window and out by the time she got upstairs. I waited anyway and listened for the small sounds of her feet on the steps, but there was nothing. I counted what I thought were seconds passing.

Someone else was watching over her because I wasn't doing it well enough. I hadn't missed anything though; no one had ever gotten by me. I stood still next to her bed, afraid she'd hear me if I moved around, though I felt an itch to pace. Who hadn't I seen? I thought of the void I found myself in sometimes, not awake and not entirely asleep. That had to be when it happened. Some creature was trying to hurt her and I hadn't known.

I felt the clawing thing move up toward my throat, tearing pieces of me away. I wondered how many parts I could rip into if it kept going. I swallowed it back down to the pit of my stomach. _More_.

I went to the door and pressed my ear to it, but there was no sound. Carefully, I pulled it open, expecting to come face to face with Bella. The stairs were empty, so were the kitchen and the entryway. So I stepped out and moved slowly down to the first floor knowing full well that she could be anywhere.

Instead of moving right to the back window to leave, the sound of soft breathing stopped me. Bella was asleep, curled up on the couch. I stood behind it to watch her for just a moment, I told myself that was all I had time for. And then I had to get outside; I'd spend the rest of the day and night there. I would try harder. She would understand.

* * *

Author's Note: Hi all, thanks for reading. There's one more chapter left and then the epilogue, so we're winding down here. I've added a couple of songs to the playlist for this; thanks to the two readers that suggested them! Also, I don't usually ask, but I'm taking reading suggestions right now if you guys know of anything awesome worth looking at - fanfic and bookstore fiction. Thanks :)

Lastly, my story "Reality and Other Inconveniences" has been nominated for an Indie in two categories: AH Story That Knocks You Off Your Feet and Best Use Of A Parent. Thanks to all that nominated me! The first round of voting is open right now and there are a lot of great stories to choose from, so go vote! You can find the link in my profile.


	7. Six: The Last Time

Six: The Last Time

Bella didn't stick to any of her patterns that night. It made me anxious and I found it hard to keep my distance after the time passed when she would normally have fallen asleep.

I stayed on the bench for the rest of the afternoon and would have just stayed there into the night if it had not been for the car that pulled up before it got dark. Jasper was driving. He wasn't alone; a rather large man shared the small space of the car with him. He had tan skin and dark hair cut short; he wasn't anyone I'd seen before. He pulled a brown paper bag from the floor at his feet and I was close enough that I could see the dark grease spots near the bottom. The man reached inside and pulled a thick looking burger out; I felt my stomach rumble at the sight, but I ignored it. He passed it to Jasper, who tore back the paper and took a bite though he was making a phone call.

I hadn't meant to watch them, but some distant survival instinct told me to pay at least some attention. Their car pointed in my direction and from my spot, I had a clear view of them and they had a clear view of me. I understood, though neither did more than glance in my direction, that they would miss nothing. But they also wouldn't understand that I had to be there, that I had no choice, and that we shared a similar intention.

After a while I stood up and stretched, my running clothes actually serving their purpose. I leaned forward on one leg and thought, _I remember this_. I switched legs and felt something like muscle memory kicking in. _I used to do this_. It was like a light turning on, but instead of illumination, it was small flashes of the before time - before Bella. I had forgotten it existed.

I used to run every morning because I enjoyed it and because someone told me they did as well, though I couldn't remember who anymore. My alarm would go off every day. I'd change into sweats, or jersey shorts if the weather was decent, and sometimes I'd listen to music. I'd leave and run three miles while the people around me were waking up, getting their coffee or reading the paper. My life was normal. Sometimes I ran an extra mile or two, past the park instead of through it like I did the day I first saw my angel.

Past the park instead of through it…

For one brief fraction of time, so quick that it could hardly be measured, I regretted ever seeing her.

It disappeared immediately into that vast space where forgotten things go and I stood up. I jogged past the car and when both men looked at me, I looked straight ahead. I went to the end of the block and then around the corner. Bella's home was the fifth one down on this end of the alleyway. I didn't normally look in on her using the back windows, but with her friend watching it didn't leave me many options.

There were two windows at the back of her house; one looked into a room that didn't seem to be used for much. There was a desk and a couple of bookshelves and a few other things; I hadn't ever noticed her in there. In the next window, I could see her living room. This was the one I usually used when I went inside.

Tonight she was there on the couch, curled up tightly as if she were trying to make herself smaller. Her laptop was open and her screensaver was showing a slideshow of photographs of her and other people, only a few I recognized. She was on the phone, but I couldn't hear. I wanted inside.

For some reason, I thought of the scratching, clawing _thing _that fought perpetually for control and I put a hand to my middle_. _I felt nothing.

I looked at Bella on the phone again, looked at the other window, and made up my mind. I moved to it and stretched, hoping it was unlocked. It was. I pushed it upward as far as I could and then lifted myself to the sill. I was quiet except for the incessant thundering of my heartbeat. I held myself steady, half inside, and listened for her voice. I saw that the door wasn't closed all the way and a part of me wanted to be seen. But still, as I crawled the rest of the way in, I was silent.

I shut the window behind me and crept closer to the door. I sat down and watched out of the half inch opening between the door and the frame. I pressed the side of my head to the wall to rest and slowed my breathing. I could see her back; she was sitting exactly in my line of vision. Nothing would happen while I was there.

"– probably bored," she was saying into her cell phone. She wrapped her free arm around her knees. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

She was quiet while the other person spoke for a few moments.

"Well, a _feeling_ isn't exactly evidence…I don't know. If it weren't for Jasper, they probably wouldn't have allowed it…sorry for keeping him away." Bella sounded apologetic and faintly frustrated. She sighed.

Gradually, she changed topics, asking whoever it was about their business. It was more comfortable for her this way, I could tell. The tension released in her shoulders as she rolled them forward and backward. Very slowly, she began sinking further into the cushions, stretching her slender body out along its length. I couldn't see her anymore, but was happy that she was relaxing. She had no reason to be afraid.

When she got off the phone it was very late, but she made no move to get up from the couch. In fact, she made herself more comfortable. I watched as her hand appeared, followed by her thin wrist as she reached up to grab a blanket. I imagined her wrapping it closely around herself, tucked under her chin and over her feet. She would close her eyes and sleep peacefully and I would never have to sleep at all.

She left the lamp on and eventually her breathing slowed and evened out; it was so quiet I thought I could hear the slight fluttering of her heartbeat. I stood up and with movements that felt suddenly foreign, walked out to see her.

In the low light, I could see the flush of her cheeks and the smallest parting of her lips. I sat on the coffee table and watched her dream. It was strange and fascinating to get this sort of insight into her mind. She talked in her sleep. I'd discovered that on the first night. Nonsense things mostly, but sometimes not; there were names – Charlie, Renee – and once she laughed. Tonight though, her dreams were different, more like nightmares I would guess.

Her one exposed hand gripped the blanket tightly, as if it would protect her. Her brow furrowed and after a second, she readjusted roughly onto her back, which only served to make her look more vulnerable.

_Face flushed, her blue eyes wide and shocked because I was there, again. She held the door like she would slam it in my face if only she could find the strength. She shook her head. _

_ So afraid._

I frowned, _brown eyes_, I thought; Bella had brown eyes. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to clear the fog. In front of me, Bella whimpered a quiet, "no."

_Breathless and shaking, she grabbed my coat so hard. Help me, she'd cried. He'd made her bleed. And she was so, so afraid._

I clenched my jaw and rubbed my eyes, but the image was still there. Different points in time inextricably linked in a memory I couldn't quite see. _Blue eyes. Brown eyes_. I thought that losing your mind must feel something like this.

Bella made a noise in her throat, low, something like a building scream. Her face was marred with tension from her nightmare. I reached out a hand, remembering what it had felt like to touch her – how I hadn't hurt her like I thought I would. _I can do it again_. I wanted to make her bad dreams go away.

Very carefully, my fingertips pushed away a stray bit of hair from her forehead. It felt silky as I brushed it back. And then I ghosted a caress over her cheekbone, softly pressing her porcelain skin. "So beautiful," I murmured. If I lived a hundred years, no face would ever compare. She quieted, the lines between her eyebrows fading into nothing.

And then her eyelids fluttered and she woke up.

Nothing was sudden and for a moment that would stretch forever, she only looked at me, eyes wide and unblinking. I wished again that I knew what she was thinking.

Her fingers clutched her blanket and her mouth opened soundlessly. That look was back, the one from the night we met. Her voice was stuttering, "I – I knew..."

I wanted to smile, I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her, "it was only ever you." But her breath was coming too quickly, too loudly, and when I stretched my arms out, she opened her mouth to scream.

I reacted, pushing my hand over her mouth before she could build up any sound. I shook my head at her. "No." She didn't understand. I leaned far over her and I realized belatedly that I was pressing her hard into the cushions of the couch. Her eyes watered. "It's ok," I tried to soothe, "it's ok."

Her hands shoved at me, her nails raking into the skin and cloth they were met with.

_So afraid_.

My heart beat fast and I thought of her clutching at me, not fighting me. _More_. I had to make her understand.

Before I could say anything else, she caught my ribs hard with her knee and I grunted, letting her go for just the shortest of seconds. But I recovered, I had to be faster, I couldn't let her go now. She tried to jump over the back of the couch, but caught her foot on the blanket and fell to the wooden floor hard on the other side. I went around and grabbed her around the ankle when she tried to scramble away from me. I yanked her toward me and flipped her onto her back, covering her mouth again when she tried to scream.

I was telling her to stop, to listen. But she was fighting; I grabbed her wrists with my free hand. I straddled her body to still her legs and she shook her head at me, rapidly; I could feel her sob under my hand. I told her to be quiet, that I didn't want to hurt her, that she was making me. "_I don't want to do this_," I begged her.

Bella's tears slipped from her eyes down into her hair. I could feel her body moving underneath me, but I was too strong. She shook her head again.

"What is it?" I wanted to touch her face the way I had before, gently. I wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be ok. Slowly, I raised my hand from her mouth; it was wet and her cheeks were red.

"Please," she whimpered. "D-don't do this."

I used my thumb to wipe away the tears, but it was no use. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bella, I couldn't. I love you," I cupped her face in my hand.

Her bottom lip trembled when she opened her mouth again. "Ok-k," she said. "But…you _are_ hurting me," she twisted her wrists in my grip.

I looked at her, confused. Did she really understand? Could it be so simple?

"Please," her voice still shook so much it was difficult to make out her words. "I don't want to fight you."

The hope I felt threatened to strangle me. I started rambling about how I had so much to tell her and how everything would be better now that we were together. She nodded, but her body still vibrated with the fear I'd become familiar with. "What's wrong?" I frowned, brushing her hair back.

"M-my wrists…let me go, we c-can t-talk, ok? Just let me go," she nodded again and tried to smile.

I lowered my face to hers until I could feel her breath; she closed her eyes. I released her wrists slowly, running my fingers up one arm. _So soft_. At the same time, I found her lips with mine. It was chaste, warm, and perfect.

Something to my right crashed to the floor and I looked up, momentarily distracted. What I saw next happened in snapshots – the lamp, it's shade crooked from the fall; her freed hand wrapped around its heavy base. She raised it fast and I felt it connect with my temple. There was blinding, shocking pain, the hard floor, and the feeling of her body slipping out from underneath me. The front door swung open and I heard her screaming for help in the quiet of the night. And then nothing.

* * *

Author's Note: Epilogue will be posted right away. Thanks for reading!


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

My next door neighbor was eighty years old and had dementia. Like most, when I first met her I just thought she was old and senile. I felt that quiet sense of guilt and sympathy that she couldn't live independently anymore and then didn't think much else. She liked to sit on her little front porch and talk to people as they went by on the street. Her name was Didyme, but she said to call her Didi. She called me Alessandra and I stopped correcting her after the first couple of times because Alessandra was a pretty name and Didi was charming.

She told stories about being a famous film actress in Italy in the fifties. She'd lift a shoulder and do this little grin and say things about how she had a stunning figure; she was very petite and I believed her. The part about her looks anyway.

Several weeks ago, she stopped me on my way past her brownstone and told me she saw a man leaving my house. "He was leaving like the rent was due," she quipped.

I just sort of nodded and said something like, "Oh? hmm…," before going up the steps to my house.

For some reason, I was thinking about that while I sat in the back of Jasper's car. The door was open and my bare feet didn't touch the pavement. I was trying not to feel; I didn't even mean for that errant memory to seep through. Instead I stared, staring was good. I tried to be invisible.

A man's pair of dress shoes interrupted my view of the street. "Bella," Jasper's voice was soothing. He kneeled down to look me in the eye. "They're going to bring him out now, ok?"

I tightened the itchy grey blanket over my shoulders, but didn't say anything. I couldn't, if I opened my mouth, if I looked at him, I would fall apart and then never be able to put myself back together again.

Around me, I could hear people talking, both officially and not so officially. I knew people were awake, peeking through their windows or watching from front porches. I was so sick of people staring at me. At my feet, the flashing lights were turning the street red.

"Bella? Bella, look at me," I could hear Jasper's voice, but he was very far away.

*~*~*~*

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Jasper strode in, his keen eyes taking in the small coffee shop automatically.

"It's ok, I ordered you some coffee." I paused, actually looking at him for the first time. I grinned, "nice hickey, is that why you're late?"

He flushed lightly and readjusted his scarf. "Enough, now tell me what's going on."

The barista called my name and we grabbed our drinks; I let Jasper lead me to a quieter corner of the bustling place. I sat down and exhaled loudly. The more I thought about it and worked myself up, the more ridiculous I felt. I took a sip of my scorching hot chocolate, remembering at the last minute that I usually took it without the whipped cream. I played with the lid, flicking my thumb over the plastic, wondering how long I could put this off.

"Bella," Jasper's voice was smooth and calming. Did they teach you that before you became a detective? "Just begin at the beginning."

I took a breath and counted until my heartbeat was something resembling normal. "Ok, well it…it started with my sheets," I kept my eyes down, my face hot. "I don't really make my bed or anything, but it's never really that messed up anyway, so…," I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I came home -,"

"When was this?" Jasper asked.

"Umm…just over six weeks ago?" I sort of asked myself because I couldn't be sure. "It wasn't that long after…you know…," I looked up and he nodded. James Hart, I tried not to think about him or about the stupid decision I'd made to walk home alone that night.

"Go on," Jasper encouraged.

"Well," I began, gaining confidence by my friend's open expression. "I got home and the sheets were just…wrong – like, too messed up on one side. I didn't think that much of it, but I changed the sheets…,"

I took a sip of my drink, using the moment to see if Jasper would say anything. When he didn't, I continued. "So, it was things like that at first -,"

"With the bed? How many times did you notice it?"

"No, with other things too, they were just…a little out of place." I leaned forward, my anxiety making me more animated. "Like, I always set my books face down, but open so I don't lose my place and sometimes, I'd get home…and they'd be shut, but I could have sworn…," I paused, trying to put my memories in chronological order. "It was the books first, just my books. And it was pretty much every day." I felt my heart thudding more quickly.

Jasper nodded, "Ok, take your time."

"Then it was my bathroom, it's kind of stupid, but…I have this thing about the labels on the stuff in the shower – I like them to face forward, I don't know why…and when I came home one day my shampoo bottle was backward," I remembered thinking it was strange, but that maybe I hadn't been paying attention when I used it. I was sleepy in the morning and my little quirk wasn't an obsessive thing, just something I did.

"When did you first see that?"

"Umm," I counted the weeks backward in my head, "it was right after the books, maybe a few days later, so…five weeks ago, give or take a couple days."

"Is there more?"

I leaned forward, my elbows on the table. "Well…it just – hasn't stopped. It's nothing specific, just little things all over my house…I feel like I'm losing my mind or something…," Over the last two or three weeks, I'd taken to obsessively checking everything before I left every day. How my books were sitting, which way my soap was facing, where my things were on the vanity, how mussed my sheets were. I would have started making the bed if all the checking didn't make me nearly late for work every morning as it was.

"Do you think someone could be living there when you're not home?"

"Living there? In my house?" I made a face.

"Squatting, I've seen it before. Have you noticed anything in the kitchen moved around? Food missing, that sort of thing?"

I thought back and then shook my head. "No, the kitchen was always fine...," It hadn't occurred to me to think it unusual; I didn't spend much time in the kitchen.

Jasper chewed lightly on the inside of his bottom lip, mulling this over. "So, you found things moved in the living room, bedroom, and your bathroom, correct?" He steepled his fingers together.

I nodded, feeling the fear beginning to show itself. Thinking about it was one thing, but now I was saying to someone else. _Someone has been in my house_.

"Bella?" Jasper's voice broke through my thoughts, "is there anything else you want to add? Anything at all?"

I looked down and shook my head, "it's just…nothing…,"

"It's not 'nothing', you'd be surprised how important the minor details can be."

"It's just…I feel watched," I fought the urge to wrap my arms around myself. "All the time, like someone's right there and I just – don't see them." I blinked back tears. I hated this, I hated all of this. I didn't feel safe anywhere, and the more I talked about it the more I knew that I was right. Someone _was_ there, touching my things, watching me. But I didn't want it to be true. I almost wanted it to just be paranoia, just a feeling, nothing important.

"Hey," Jasper reached out and grabbed my hand in both of his. "Let us take care of this now, ok? I'll take you to the police station; tell them what you told me." He squeezed my hand. "I don't think it's nothing."

I nodded and he let go of my hand. "Ok."

"Before we go, I need to ask you one more question." He waited a beat before continuing, "do you know of anyone that might consider you an enemy? Anyone that might want to hurt you?"

"No," I said before I really thought about it. But it was true, I didn't have any enemies that I knew of and for the most part I kept to myself. I couldn't be sure exactly, but I thought I was pretty nice, or fairly easy to get along with at least. "Nobody I can think of."

Jasper chewed on the inside of his lip again and I knew he wanted to ask me something else so I kept quiet. "Ok, think about this before you answer me. Can you think of anyone who might have an unhealthy – affection – toward you? Someone you rejected? Or someone, an acquaintance even, that may be a little too close, too forward, anything?"

I almost laughed; I didn't often get the chance to do any rejecting. "No, I -," and then his face appeared.

"What is it?"

I wanted to forget it and go with my paranoia theory, but I couldn't. "It's…I just…," I couldn't seem to get the name out. Finally, I forced myself to say it. "Edward."

I could see Jasper's wheels turning. "Edward…Cullen? The guy from the night you were attacked?"

I nodded.

"Alright," he stood up, "we should get going."

He had closed up inside himself the way he did when he was focused on figuring something out. It made me nervous. I knew it was probably stupid to even think but I did anyway; _this was getting serious_. It was real now.

*~*~*~*

"Just don't look up, ok?" Jasper was talking again.

I looked up anyway; I wanted to see him. I heard Jasper sigh. Two uniformed officers were leading him out, one in front and one beside. Their faces were emotionless, but their grip on his arms was hard.

He looked so tired, exhausted, finished – so different than when I'd seen him the first time. He'd saved my life that night. I remembered distinctly the way he'd turned violent to protect me and then how quickly he was able to turn it off. I'd been so grateful to have him in my life at that moment.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped to mine. Past the other officers, onlookers, and police cars, it was like he sensed me nearby. He opened his mouth as if to call out something.

I looked away.

*~*~*~*

Alice squeezed my hand and I clenched my jaw, willing myself into stoicism. It wasn't working. "It'll be alright," she said quietly.

We sat in the spare chairs at Jasper's desk. He had papers piled everywhere, some tipping precariously toward the floor. I cracked a grin, watching Alice eye the mess. "I'm glad you're here," I whispered.

Everything was different now, but not. The cops milled about, some at desks or getting coffee; a couple of them laughed at something. It was noisy and I wanted to shut it all out. But it wasn't their fault, they weren't different – I was.

"Afternoon, ladies," Jasper leaned down to give Alice a quick kiss. He put a file down on his desk; I could tell he was looking for a way to start.

"You…have more information?" I asked. I'd learned a little about Edward Cullen over the last day. I knew he'd had a job at the local college, but they'd fired him almost a month ago for not showing up. He'd been missing from the office for more than a week without any word. I knew he had no family and no friends to speak of, no vehicle or credit cards, just a little apartment a few short miles from my house.

He sat in his old computer chair heavily. "Ok, officially – here's what I can tell you. He's confessed and signed a statement, which corroborates with yours. He's got a public defender in with him…," he looked at me for the next part. "The lawyer might try and argue that he's mentally unstable."

I frowned, not understanding because to me, he was. "So, what would that mean?" I let go of Alice's hand and started picking at the skin around my nails.

"Reduced sentence, hospitalization…or no jail time at all depending on what the lawyer argues."

I felt like the air was being sucked out of the room.

Alice spoke up for me, "you mean that maniac could get off for this? Are you fu -,"

"We're trying, I seriously doubt he'll walk away, I just had to give you all the possibilities," Jasper gave her a look. "We can argue that he knew exactly what he was doing. He found the unlocked window, he knew your schedule, it was all premeditated. And we have the pictures of your bruises…He's not some raving lunatic…," Jasper still look frustrated, like he'd said all these things before. "There's something you should know, Bella."

I stilled, trying to be ready for whatever it was.

"During his confession, he admitted to being in the house when you were there," he paused, "he said he watched you at night, when you were asleep."

Just like that, all the air left my lungs. "He -," I couldn't breathe, tears pricked at my eyes and I couldn't see either. I was underwater, fighting to get to the surface.

"Bella?" Someone asked.

I was having a panic attack.

"Breathe, Bella," someone said. I felt a push on my shoulder. "Put your head between your knees."

I squeezed my eyes shut and did as I was told. _Come on_, I told myself, _in and out_. Slowly, too slowly, things started making sense again.

Alice was talking, "in on three, out on three," I could hear her modeling her breathing for me and felt a tear fall from the corner of my eye.

"I -," I started, my voice muffled by my position. "I'm ok." An inch at a time, I sat up.

He'd watched me sleep. What else had he done? I wrapped my arms around myself. He'd been there when I was there. He'd watched me…all the time. I felt a staccato shaking that I realized after a moment was coming from me. I closed my fists tightly against my sides. Alice and Jasper were both staring, waiting for me to come back to them. "I'm ok," I repeated.

Alice held out a paper cup of water for me.

I took it and said thank you before taking a long drink. The coolness felt good, normal. "Is – is there more?"

Jasper hesitated, but if he had more to tell me, I wanted to hear it. "Ok," he leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. He took a breath and spoke quietly, "unofficially, we can't use it and it can't move past here, but – he's done this before -,"

"What?" Alice looked horrified.

I thought of the other girl, whoever she was. How afraid she must have been, was she as lucky as I was? I hoped so, but, what if she wasn't? What was Edward Cullen capable of?

"His records are sealed because he was a minor when it happened. What I know is that he had a girlfriend in school and when she tried to break things off, he couldn't handle it. It didn't go nearly as far as it did with you but there was a restraining order. Eventually, she moved away and things settled down. So, he has a definite history of instability."

In some strange, merciful way, I started to think that maybe he should be hospitalized.

"We're doing everything we can," Jasper said, looking determined.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that this all could just go away. "I can't live there anymore," I said, suddenly.

Alice touched my arm, "you can stay with us."

"Of course," Jasper added.

I thought – _I'm one of the lucky ones_.

*~*~*~*

I talked to another detective and answered more questions and by the time I was finished, the morning was gone and my stomach was grumbling. It was a weird comfort, that this one thing was still the same.

"Feel like getting lunch? I'm freaking starving," Alice met me back at Jasper's desk; I was a little surprised she'd waited for me, but not surprised that she was hungry. She always was.

"Sure," I said, faking a smile. Despite my appetite's reemergence, what I really wanted was to sleep the rest of the day away. I felt like hiding, going somewhere no one would ever find me.

A uniformed officer appeared on the other side of the cubicle wall. "Hey, Jasper asked me to take you out the back way, there's some media out front." He led us away from the noise of the other people, down a hallway to another open area; there were holding cells across the room. "Stay here," the officer ordered. He moved away to talk to a woman in a suit.

I knew I shouldn't look, but I did anyway.

In the fluorescent lighting, his face looked drained. I could see that he hadn't shaved in a while and that his hair was hanging haphazardly across his forehead. He sat on a bench alone, his elbows resting on his knees. He seemed so tired.

Again, his eyes rose and met mine. Like he knew already that I was there. I felt a small tug on my arm, but I couldn't look away. Edward made no movements and I saw no anger, no resentment, no hurt or even betrayal in his eyes. And I wasn't terrified like I thought I would be. We regarded each other for a moment while I tried to find a word that would describe the way he was looking at me. His eyes looked alive in a way I'd never seen during our few interactions.

He watched me with pure…devotion.

"Bella, let's go," Alice gave one final tug and I came back to myself.

The officer led us a short way until we reached a heavy steel door. When he pushed it open I took a deep breath, shaking off whatever had just passed between myself and Edward Cullen, and stepped out into the light of a new day.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading this; it was pretty crazy to write. You guys totally make my day.

So, news - I was interviewed recently by silver sniper of night; it's on the blog So You Think You Can Write? and is linked in my profile, check it out. Thanks to everyone involved over there! :)

As for my next project, yes I have one and it's way different than this. I like Edward as a good guy too much and this next story features Jasper as well (not quite in the slash way, but you'll have to read it to find out exactly what I mean). I'm gonna take a little break so I can write without worrying about a posting schedule, but chances are I won't be able to stay away for long. So keep a look out! Thanks again everyone.


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